CHRIS EVANS & SEBASTIAN STAN IMAGINES

Tag, you're it (Part one)

Summary: Melanie Martinez inspired trash, uhhh kinky Chris

Warning: Abduction!!!!!! 

The big brightly colored truck slowly followed behind your un-attentive form. 

You were on your way to the corner store around the block. With the ninety-seven cents that your mother gave you, your young self planned on buying loads of candy.  

Few cars passed by your lovely neighborhood, they would honk if they'd recognize who you were. Your family was known in the area, as the friendly loving people. But they had no idea what happened behind closed doors. 

You look at your feet, while walking. Observing your white ankle-high shoes and dulled-out teal dress with white lace trimming. You skipped along the newly built sidewalk, kicking stray pebbles out of your way. 

You passed a few houses, like the Jeffersons, the Legers and your friend, Kathy's family, the Swansons. It was a sunny summer day in 1963, just a normal afternoon, with all the usual neighbors outside; either watering the lawn or playing a good old game of baseball at the local field. 

They greeted you from over the wooden fence, saying a quick hello as you did the same. Your pig-tails bouncing along as you bounced joyfully to the store. 

You arrive in the parking lot, running to the door excitedly. You open it gingerly, as the bell from above rung, alerting that a customer has entered. 

"Why hello, (Y/N). It's been awhile hasn't it?" The store owner, Daniel said cheerfully. "Hello sir, and yes it has been a while." You sweetly smiled, padding over to the candy jars, that were placed strategically next to the counter. 

"What are you buying today? Gummy dolphins? Lollipops, chocolate?" He chuckled seeing you grab a paper bag. "How about a little bit of everything?" You grinned, taking the tongs and maneuvering them to grab the sugary goods. 

"That seems like a plan, little miss." He offered a lopsided smile. You finished selecting, your treats, and brought it to the counter. Daniel took charge and placed the bag on the scale, measuring its weight. That'll be fifty cents, young lady." He chirped, pressing the metallic pistons of the cash register. 

"The prices went up, golly." You gave him the coinage. "I know...taxes-adult stuff." He chuckled, giving your change back. "Thank you." You politely said, taking the change and placing it in your tiny purse that hung beside your waist from your shoulder. "No problem, (Y/N)." He pushed the bag towards you, as you took it in your porcelain-like hands. 

"Have a good day, and stay away from trouble now," He warned. "I will and thank you again!" You shouted as you pushed open the thick glass door. You smiled to yourself, as you looked up. You spotted an ice cream truck parked in the paved area. 

Quickly, you ran up to it as the driver rolled down the window. The man was around his thirties and had a cleanly trimmed beard. "Hiya young lady, you want ice cream?" He rasped in his Boston accent. "Yes please!" You happily said, jumping slightly. He got out of the driver's seat and went to the main window, opening the panels.

You got a better view of the man. He was tall and muscled. "What flavor would you like? We have vanilla, chocolate, rocky road, cotton candy, and strawberry." He got out the scoop and a cone. You tapped your chin, "I'll take a cone of vanilla, please." You flashed your pearly whites. 

He rolled up his sleeves unclothing his thick, veiny and slightly hairy forearms. He worked hard at the icy, hard substance; making sure to give you a good amount of product. He wrapped a napkin around the cone giving it to you delicately. Your fingers brushed against his slightly. 

Your breath hitched, for just a moment. His hands were large and thick, this man was the definition of masculinity. He wore a tamed smile as he pulled back. You looked up to meet his eyes, blue and shining. 

"How much will this be?" You reached for your purse. "Nothing, free of charge. It's a hot day and it'll be my good deed of the day." His pink lips tilting up into a smile. "Thank you very much, sir." You politely thanked him and started making your way back home, paper bag in hand and licking away on your ice cream. 

The flavor tasted a bit differently than the vanilla you've tasted before, but you just shrugged it off. You aimed for the sidewalk, but your vision began to spot. Panicking slightly, you stop in your tracks as a wave of nausea hit you. Making your head spin and lose your balance. It's as if you fell in slow motion, feeling minimal pain to your lower region,  you tried to grip something to steady you but your sight was worsening, making you instantly drained. Instinctively your body shut's down, falling to the ground, seeing the ice cream man's footsteps approaching you. 

That was the last thing you saw. 

You wake up, light-headed in a girls bedroom. The walls were covered in pink wallpaper, room filled with toys, dolls, tea sets and blocks. A kids' table set, stood in the middle of the large room, a light pink wooden bookshelf was filled with books and girly figurines. 

You laid in a bed with pink bedding and over the queen sized bed had a princess tent. Was this a little girls bedroom? If so, what were you doing here? Weren't you just going home from the store? 

You kicked your shaky legs off the bed, standing wobbly. The hello kitty bedside lamp was on and illuminated most of the room, it didn't have windows. You follow the other source of light that poured from the open door. 

It was a large kitchen to your right and the living room to your left, a bedroom across from you and the room beside the one you just came out of was the bathroom. The only sound you could hear was the television playing, the Patriots game was playing full swing. Your socks slid on the wooden floor. Someone had taken off your shoes. 

It was a good-looking place, expensive furniture, clean, and smelled like tropical islands. You padded around for a second, wondering where you were. 

Simultaneously, you heard footsteps coming down the stairs. 

It was the ice cream man, dressed in jeans and a black v-neck sweater. "Ah, you're awake." His expression neutral. He jumped off the last step and approached you. 

"Where am I?" You rubbed your eyes. "You're at my place, you blacked out in the parking lot." He led you to the kitchen, you sat on a stool. "Who are you?" You blurted out. He chuckled and looked over his shoulder to take a peek at you; Your expression was tired.  He poured you A glass of water. "My name is Chris. What's yours?" He hands you the cup. 

You take it hesitantly. "Mother told me not to talk to strangers." You mumbled. "I'm not a stranger anymore, I told you my name." He said, placing both his hands on either side of the island. You processed that, he could see the gears turning in your head. 

"I guess you're right, my name is (Y/N)." You said. He held out his hand, so you decided to shake it. "When do I go home?" You asked him, taking a drink. "See, that's the thing. I brought you here for an important reason. I have a problem and you're the only one that can help me." He chose his words carefully. 

"What is your problem?" You cocked your head to the side. He took a deep breath and threw his head back slowly. "Uhh..... it involves you staying here for a while until I get cured-" You cut him off. "Does my mother know about this?" You asked. "Uhh, yes. Yes she does, I asked her and she said it was okay." He blandly lied. 

"Okay, so what should I do to help you?" You asked. He thumbed with his fingers nervously, swallowing. "I'm not sure yet, we will have to see." He said. "Uhh anyways, do you want to watch TV?" He said. "I'm tired." You mumbled, rubbing your eyes again. "Come lay with me." He motioned toward the couch. 

He laid first, then you slotted yourself to his chest as he watched television. It was strange, but you slowly went to sleep. 

-Adele